


A Unicornmas Dinner with the Amber Royal Family

by amberite



Category: Chronicles of Amber - Roger Zelazny
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 22:16:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberite/pseuds/amberite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What could be more Christmasy than dead relatives resurrected from the Abyss? Oh, wait. Don't answer that question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Unicornmas Dinner with the Amber Royal Family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greyknight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyknight/gifts).



> Christmas crackers are these: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_cracker  
> Just in case anyone isn't familiar with them.
> 
> To my recipient - hope you enjoy the story! When I saw your request, I had to throw in a few Nethack references.

Corwin's hellride out of imprisonment took him to Amber just in time for midwinter. He strode into Castle Amber to find Flora leading Martin toward the banquet hall.

Oh, yes: he should have known by the snow, carefully Jewel-crafted to brush finely across the roof of every building without obstructing the passage of feet. It was Unicornmas. He began to wish he'd waited a couple more days in the comfy dark room where Dara had stuck him. There was an AbMaster in there and everything. And lots of alcohol.

But Flora spotted him instantaneously, of course, and embraced him like the long-lost relative he was. Martin raised a cynical eyebrow.

"What a delight! It's been half of forever since we've been able to engage in this family tradition, and although the gang's not quite all here - poor Eric -" Flora dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief produced out of nowhere - "we've an excellent feast laid out. Gerard won't tell me the secret to his roast, though - I've sent spies and _everything_. But you're just in time for the main course."

Poor Eric? Corwin thought. What about Deirdre?

Benedict was slicing the famous roast when they got there. It was over very quickly: he did it with a sword, moving so quickly the damn thing blurred.

As soon as Benedict sat down, Corwin saw what about Deirdre. Right across the room in front of him, her lovely face pale, framed in dark hair, and her eyes, dark as ever. In fact, they seemed to be a little darker than before. Odd.

"Deirdre!" he shouted, and immediately leapt over the table to embrace her. "It's wonderful to see you alive!"

She gave him a baffled look. "Hi, Corwin. It's nice to be alive. You know that thing about our father was a convenient excuse, and I'm _still_ not getting in bed with you, right?"

"I know," Corwin said. He thought he might look more disappointed than he wanted her to think he was, so he stared hard into the mashed potatoes.

At the same time, Martin had spotted someone else, and was now standing in a corner of the room with one of the broad oak chairs held up in front of him as a shield. "What the FUCK? Why are you, like, here? And not in jail?"

Brand muttered something very rapidly. Corwin couldn't make out a word he said. "What?"

"I'muhrgnsyknalsis."

"What?"

"He's undergoing psychoanalysis," Fiona said calmly. She was seated next to Brand. Corwin noticed that they were wearing coordinated outfits.

"Still. NOT COOL," Martin said. He put the chair down, but seated himself at the opposite end of the long table from Brand. His eyes darted back and forth nervously.

"It really helps!" Dworkin broke in cheerfully, from where he sat atop the table, licking a turkey drumstick. The turkey hadn't been cut into yet; he must have got it from somewhere else. "Some of the therapists your father brought in for me are fantastic, at least now that the Pattern is repaired and my brain is no longer innately bent."

Brand gave Dworkin a nasty look and reached into his pocket. Rather proudly, he handed Corwin a cracker.

"DON'T OPEN THAT," everyone chorused at once.

"Er." Corwin examined the cracker and set it down on the table in front of him. "Why not?"

"He made them himself," Flora said. "I pulled one and was picking bits of alternate universe out of my hair for half an hour." She reached up and dislodged a stray bit of Pattern imprint from her coiffure; it disintegrated in a sparkly haze that made Corwin's eyes hurt.

Benedict whispered something to Random at the head of the table. Random nodded and called for another round of wine.

"My therapist says I should try to do nice things for people, but shouldn't expect everyone to forgive me all at once," Brand said cheerfully.

"Your therapist is a clever fellow," Corwin muttered.

"Yes?" Random said to the air. "Why's that?" He was either receiving a Trump call, or talking to himself. "Very well then. I'll bring you in."

Merlin stepped through in a haze of rainbows. "Merry Unicornmas, you guys!" he said. He reached into his pocket, found a lot of pens, got a puzzled look on his face, reached into his other pocket and pulled out a handful of small flat packages that he then began to hand around the table.

Julian, rudely, opened his before everyone else had got theirs. "This is a Trump of Droppa MaPantz," he said in a bored and puzzled tone of voice.

Indeed, the rest of the packages were the same thing. Everyone looked at Merlin questioningly, except Martin, who was still looking at Brand suspiciously.

"Humor is _important_ ," Merlin said. "You guys take yourselves too seriously. I thought you'd want to have him on call."

"Did you talk to Droppa about this?" Random asked.

"Naw," Merlin said, "but I'm sure if you buy him a drink he'll get over three AM Trump calls. He's a pretty mellow guy."

Meanwhile Corwin was trying to make small talk with Deirdre. "The Abyss - what was it like?"

"Wellll, I wouldn't buy a timeshare there," Deirdre said. "It was weird. There was this fellow who called himself the Wizard of Yendor, and it was a _bitch and a half_ to get away from him. I had to steal his amulet and give it to the Unicorn before I could get out of there. Anyway, Flora said you were missing too - what's your excuse?"

"Psycho ex-girlfriend," Corwin said.

"Oh," Deirdre said. "That's nice." An alarming sheet of blackness came over her eyes for a moment, but she blinked and then it was gone. She didn't seem quite the same, Corwin thought, as before she'd fallen in.

Llewella arrived late as usual and handed packages around the table. They sloshed a little.

"What's in these?" Corwin asked.

"Open it, you idiot," she said. "It's a surprise."

"Sea monkeys," Julian said from across the table. "Every year, it's sea monkeys. And not just any sea monkeys; Rebman sea monkeys, so they don't just die off. We've got a big tank of them in the throne room now, so you might as well dump yours there."

"Bastard," Llewella hissed. "Corwin wasn't _here_ last year."

"I aim to please," said Julian.

Fiona was talking softly with Bleys and Brand over the corner of the long feast table. Martin was staring at them down the distance of the table, looking increasingly upset.

"What's wrong?" Merlin asked him.

"My listening tech doesn't _work_ here," Martin complained.

"Give me a look at it," Merlin said. They began talking shop. Corwin gathered that the little red blinky thing by Martin's ear was failing to be blinky and that meant it was failing to do whatever the hell it was it did. When next he looked over, his son was doing something complicated with a Trump card and a screwdriver.

The redheads' volume went up a bit. "I know," Bleys was saying to Brand. "They're too foolish to understand the vision behind your Unicornmas crackers. But I still think it's an improvement. I mean, look at how un-locked-up-and-stabbed you are!" He slurred a little. It took a lot of wine to get to Bleys, but it was clear he had sufficient determination to make it happen.

"That was you, not them," Brand said.

"Well, but _we_ think your crackers are creative and original, and that it's _completely_ not your fault that the pocket universe implodes when you try to open them in Castle Amber. I mean, who would have known they would fail this close to the Pattern?"

"I would. This medication is making me stupid."

"No it's not! I think you're more brilliant than ever!" Bleys said hastily.

"My point exactly," said Brand. Corwin wondered whether they were just paying the therapist a lot, or had hired one with suicidal tendencies, or were just keeping him locked up in the dungeon.

The meat course came and went, and desserts were brought in, and the wine glasses replaced with champagne flutes.

"A toast!" Gerard declared. "To those no longer here with us."

"Oh, really," Brand said. His face was sullen. "I bet you're just saying that because it doesn't include me anymore."

" _Is_ he up on his medication?" Bleys asked Fiona _sotto voce_. She nodded, and shrugged her shoulders.

"That's not true," Julian said to Brand. "You know perfectly well Gerard makes the same toast every year there are enough of us in town to do this. Initially that just meant Osric and Finndo and some of Dad's ex-wives, and boy did Dad ever give him the stink-eye then."

"To those no longer here with us," Gerard repeated, his voice petulant. Everyone clinked glasses with their neighbors. A rainbow shimmer appeared in the air.

Caine emerged from the shimmer to seat himself next to Gerard.

"Uncle Caine! - Weren't you dead too?" Merlin said.

"No," said Gerard, dourly. "He just timed that so my toast would include him. Didn't you?" He seemed resigned by now to the fact that everyone wanted to ruin his moment.

Caine simply smiled and speared a fruit tart with his dagger. "A gentleman never indulges in boasting," he said.

"Can we unbanish Luke now?" Merlin said.

"Unbanish? He's still telling you he's banished?" Flora looked amused. "He just hates family dinners."

Brand suddenly looked even crabbier. He muttered _damn kid_ under his breath.

Merlin picked up one of Brand's crackers. "DON'T OPEN THAT!" everyone shouted.

Merlin grinned. "So you won't mind if I take these, then? Good. I could use a few pocket universes," he said, and began collecting the crackers that lay abandoned on the table and stuffing them into his pockets. Bits of brightly colored tissue paper stuck out.

Conflicting expressions crossed Brand's face; he looked unsure whether to be annoyed or feel appreciated. Fiona stuffed her cracker into her handbag and grabbed the one at the place-setting next to her too before Merlin could snap them up. Dworkin had already tucked one away into his jacket.

Deirdre was drinking her champagne nonchalantly. The trouble with this was that both of her hands were under the table. A smoky black tentacle protruded from her dress and lifted the champagne flute to her lips.

Corwin stared. "Deirdre, you're..."

"I drank something odd while I was down there and decided I liked the results," she said cheerfully. "What?"

"...never mind." He wasn't sure he liked her new look, but if he didn't, it conveniently saved him some pining.

"Nobody's even _noticed_ my outfit," Bleys complained. He'd clearly decided that the best way to deal with Brand's sulking was to outdo it. Brand and Fiona patted him reassuringly.

"I love a good Unicornmas!" Dworkin shouted. Gerard and Caine were well into their drinking contest. Random was gleefully making out with Vialle and ignoring everyone else.

Julian was dutifully escorting an armful of sea monkeys toward the tank. "If she can bring these, I don't understand why I can't bring Morgenstern," he muttered under his breath.

"Don't we all," said Benedict, as another stray piece of reality drifted out of Flora's hair and blew up in the custard. "Don't we all."

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanted to hear Merlin's half of the trump conversation between Merlin and Random, it was this:
> 
> "Hey, your Majesty!"
> 
> "Do you want to know why I'm Trumping you?"
> 
> "Because I want to get to dinner and you're the one I trust least to stab me. I mean trust most to stab me least."
> 
> This was initially going to be a more serious story and I had all this liturgy of the Unicorn and a bizarre subplot involving Gertrude Stein. But that story wanted to be ultra dark, which was NOT what you asked for, so I finally shelved it and gave in to my hidden desire to write Amber crack for you with a dash of Nethack. Fear not, though - if you really want to see the serious story, I'm working on that one too and will post it on request after the reveal.


End file.
